


Clean

by Anonymous



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dark, Elias is terrible, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Showers, episode 102, not sure what else to say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23061367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Elias steps forward until the tips of his dress shoes are just outside the shower spray. Jon watches him dully."Do you have any plans to get out any time soon?""I can still feel the lotion," Jon says. It's the only answer he has.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 10
Kudos: 107
Collections: Anonymous





	Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Fic starts after Jon’s conversation with Elias finishes in 102.
> 
> Warnings for PTSD/aftermath of canonical trauma, rape, and, uh, forced moisturizing, I guess? The non-con is for the Jon/Elias. It's not graphic. So. Hit me up if you’d like more info. 
> 
> Also, considering how much time the staff of the Institute spends there to avoid being eaten, I figured it wasn’t too much of a stretch to have a locker room/shower room type set-up in the Archives. Suspension of disbelief and whatnot.
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you like it, and I love feedback!

The tape recorder clicks off. Jon guesses that the important conversations are over, at least for the moment. The surge of panic he feels at no longer being recorded should surprise him, but he’s not capable of surprise at the moment. The only thing he can feel is fear. Fear and the lotion coating every inch of his skin.

That's all he’s been feeling for a month, apparently. 

Elias clears his throat. “Do you want something to eat, Jon? Perhaps some water?” 

Elias’ courtesy grates, after everything-- after a goddamn _month_ \-- but it’s better than Nikola’s shrieking laughter echoing around him in the dark.

Anything is. 

“I want to take a shower,” Jon says. He’s hungry, he’s exhausted, he’s thirsty, and he doesn’t care. All he wants to do is climb into a scalding shower for hours and scrub off a layer or two of skin. 

Anything to get rid of the lotion. To get rid of the feeling of cold, almost-but-not-quite plastic fingers moving over his skin. 

To make his skin feel like it belongs to him again.

Elias arches an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Jon wonders bitterly if anything he does is actually a surprise to Elias. “I believe you are free to use the showers to the left of the restrooms in the Archives.”

Jon nods stiffly and stands. Every muscle in his body aches.

“Oh, and Jon,” Elias calls. Jon pauses in the doorway. Elias’ eyes gleam. “Do take care not to vanish again, won’t you?”

Jon swallows his response with difficulty. 

Michael ungagged him, but somehow Jon still can’t speak. 

Jon’s used the showers in the Archives a few times before, mostly when he stayed too late to justify taking the time to sleep. The lights are harsh and fluorescent against the white tile of the room, so Jon usually leaves half of them off. Now, he locks the door behind him and turns on every light in the room. The glare makes his Spiral-induced headache flare back to life with a vengeance. He doesn’t care.

Jon doesn’t want to be left in the dark again. 

He turns the shower handle as far as it will go. While he waits for the water to warm up, Jon strips out of his clothes. They reek of fear, sweat, blood, and lotion. Just like he does.

Jon drops to his knees under the shower spray and dry heaves bile onto the spotless white floor. 

When he manages to get his retching under control, he wraps his arms around his knees and watches the tainted water swirl down the drain. Within half a minute, the floor is pristine again. 

Jon tries to think. All he can remember through the fog in his head is that he wants his skin to feel like it belongs to him again.

He doesn’t know how long it takes him to uncurl and stand up. Time is passing strangely, in large, uneven clumps, and all Jon can do is scrub his skin raw and hope that he’s not still in Michael’s corridors. 

Then again, nothing feels real. Maybe that's why. Maybe he never left the wax museum. 

Time slides sideways again. 

“Jon.”

Jon blinks and turns his head slowly to look at Elias, who's framed in the doorway. Vaguely, Jon thinks that he should be self-conscious being naked in front of his boss, but the thought doesn’t register. 

“How did you get in?”

Elias sighs. “That’s hardly the most pressing concern here, but…” He steps inside and locks the door behind himself. “Master key, remember? No door in this Institute can keep me out.”

"Ominous," Jon croaks. There's his voice. He's been worrying that Nikola took his voice box after all.

"It comes in handy when my Archivist locks himself in the shower for an hour."

_It's been an hour?_

"Yes," Elias answers. Jon doesn't ask if he'd said it out loud. He doesn't want to know the answer. 

Elias steps forward until the tips of his dress shoes are just outside the shower spray. Jon watches him dully. 

"Do you have any plans to get out any time soon?"

"I can still feel the lotion," Jon says. It's the only answer he has. 

"Ah." Elias' lips thin in distaste. "Yes. Nikola did mention that."

_How--_

"She sent me tapes."

Jon nods. He'll care about that at some point, probably. 

Elias seems to reach a decision. He sits on a bench and begins untying his shoes.

"What are you…" Jon trails off. Speaking takes more energy than he has left in him.

"I'm going to get the lotion off you," Elias says. "Can't have you locked in here forever. The water bill would be horrendous."

Jon blinks. "You can get the lotion off?"

"Yes." Elias begins unbuttoning his shirt. "You'll have to trust me, though."

Jon barks out a rough laugh. "Trust you? You murdered a man with a pipe and left me to rot in a wax museum."

"If I had known where you were, I would have come for you." Elias undoes his belt. "You're mine, Jon. Whether you believe it or not, I will always come for you."

Jon closes his eyes and tilts his face up into the water. 

He doesn't have the energy to care. If Elias wants to kill him, there's nothing he could do anyway.

Elias starts with Jon's hair, his fingers massaging Jon's scalp. Elias' fingers are warm and solid and human, and everywhere they touch feels real again. 

By the time his fingers are on Jon's hips, Jon's feeling less numb.

The faint relief Jon feels disappears when one of Elias' hands drifts between his legs.

"I don't--" Jon tries to pull away, but Elias' fingers dig into his waist.

"But Jon," Elias murmurs, "I'm getting rid of the lotion. I thought that's what you wanted."

"But--"

Elias kisses him, winding one of his hands through Jon's hair. Jon closes his eyes and lets himself go numb again. 

_It doesn't matter if it's not real_ , he thinks, hearing Michael's laughter, and he repeats it over and over until Elias is finished.

"Is the lotion gone, Jon?" Elias inquires politely as he pulls out. 

Jon thinks about it. His skin doesn't feel cool and greasy anymore. It feels raw and too small. 

It still doesn't feel like it's his.

"Yes." The lotion is gone. Jon's not sure if what's left is worse.

"Good." Elias kisses Jon's cheek and steps out of the shower spray. "Do finish up, Archivist. You need to get your rest."

Jon waits until he's sure Elias is gone to let himself cry.

"Your hands look a little dry, Jon," Elias says as he hands over the statement. "Would you like some lotion?"

Jon leaves without a word.

Elias' soft laughter follows him down the stairs.


End file.
